Feel It
by charliesDIM
Summary: "I need this control, and she needs to feel like everyone else."
1. The Tired Detective

Title: Feel It

Summary: "I need this control, and she needs to feel like everyone else."

Rating: M (that means Mature, ya know…because of the sex.)

Pairing: Rizzoli/Isles (is there any other possible pairing for that show?)

Author's Notes: This story takes place immediately after the events of "I'm Your Boogy-man". I wrote this in present tense, because I really felt like getting a headache, and there wasn't a hammer anywhere in sight. I don't love writing in present tense, obviously, but don't be scared, because I'm not terrible at it. I just thought that it would be challenging for a nice, short, and angsty fanfic about our lovely detective. But I forgot that short drabbles are nearly impossible for me, because I just keep going and going, and then there's a metaphor about a battery operated rabbit. So, this is part one, of three chapters. I hope you all like it, because despite my protests, I did enjoy writing this.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. (What? I totally thought you did!) I know, weird, right? But TNT and Tess G. hold the rights, not me. (Hey, that rhymed.) You're right, voice in my head. It did!

Feedback: Would you, really? I love feedback like I love Sasha Alexander's curious head tilt…which is a lot. Flames are welcome, but they are also ignored. Constructive criticism is not. :)

Chapter One:

[The Tired Detective]

I'm tired. Well, I probably should be. I'm not tired.

I'm on edge, running on adrenaline, and I know I'll crash soon. My body will catch up to my mind, slow itself down, and then, _then_ I'll be tired. Not now though, now all my nerves are raw, and senses are shot.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't have sent off Dean. He would've been good for me tonight. I could've taken him home and worked off all this excess tension. Yeah, should've, would've, could've, right Jane? But it wouldn't have been right, and it wasn't a lie when I said I wasn't ready for someone like him. He's in the tune of protector, and I don't need that. Give me a few notes of understanding silence, and maybe I'll hum along.

I should be here. I knew I would've ended up here anyway, because I always do.

I run my fingers over the palms of my hands, feeling the raised and rough skin of my scars, my palms feeling the numbness of dead tissue. My knuckles crack a little as I flex my fingers, before I ring the doorbell.

Apprehension starts to grip me after a few seconds of silence. I strain to hear footsteps, or the clicking sound of locks being unfastened. This is stupid. She just spent 48 hours straight with me, she probably wants to be alone, or she's sleeping. Which is what I should be doing. I should be alone and sleeping.

The seconds aren't as long as I'm making them out to be, and before I can turn around and leave, she opens the door.

And I sigh.

She smiles brightly, like always.

The side of my mouth twitches up slightly, as my eyes downcast. I'm embarrassed a little, at how just seeing her face makes me feel so much better.

"Jane, hi." I notice that she changed into a more casual outfit which included a silk blouse that probably cost more than three of my wardrobes put together. But it's blue and I almost tell her how nice she looks.

"Sorry I didn't call." I say instead. She backs away from the door frame, as an invitation to enter, and I take it, only hesitating slightly.

"You know you don't have to." Maura closes and locks the door behind me. I don't have to, and I don't usually, but something's off—

"How are you holding up?" My nerves are raw, that's all. I push my uneasiness into the back of my mind, and she leads us to the couch to sit down.

"Better…" She smoothes her hands along her thighs, flattening the wrinkles out of her black slacks. "Since I got to change out of my wrinkled dress." Maura laughs a little and looks at me. I look away. My hands clench into a fist, and I really shouldn't be here.

"I know that must have been torture." A chuckle comes out, joining in her attempt to lighten the mood, but my voice sounds rough and cracked.

"I thought you were going to dinner with Gabriel." Her voice sounds strange.

"I did. It was a short dinner." She stayed quiet for a moment, understanding. Her hand moves over to my lap, where mine are balled up in fists. I'm so wound up; I actually jump a little when she touches me. I mumble a half word apology, but still don't let her hand settle in mine.

She stands up a little quick, flashing me a grin. "I'll get us some wine—"

"Am I interrupting something?" She's acting jumpy and uncomfortable, and sure I'm not one to talk, but something about her is off. It could be the case, it could just be me.

"No, of course not. Just sit down and relax." Maura runs her hand down the top of my arm as a gesture of comfort. "I'll be right out with two glasses." She walks toward the kitchen before stopping and facing me. "Red or white?"

"Vodka?" I reply with a sigh, leaning back against the couch. She tilts her head slightly, as if considering my request.

"I'll be right back."

And I'll be right behind you. There is one thing that makes Maura unlike anyone in this world. She is easier to see through than glass. Really, really clean glass that you think isn't there and then you walk right into it. So when she acts odd, I notice. When something's off, I know.

As soon as she disappears from view, I slip off my shoes and coat, and follow her. I walk quickly but quietly through the doorway and into an empty kitchen. Somebody give me the 'best detective in the world' award.

I take a left to a hallway that I know leads to her office, keeping an eye out for Bass, knowing that if I trip over that monstrosity, it might blow my cover.

The door to her office is cracked open; my hand pushes on it gently, hoping to keep quiet. I see her back to me, in front of her desk, distracted while she gathers papers.

What are you hiding, Maura?

"What are you doing?" I ask, a little confused and a little angry, trying to decide which emotion to lean towards. She jerks at the sound and spins around to face me, grabbing the edge the desk behind her.

"Jane." It only takes me a second to recognize what's on her desk. "I was just, just researching, um…"

I'm in front of her in two steps, and push her to the left, looking down at interview transcripts, psych evaluations, and Hoyt's big ugly name all over it. I notice the computer tower's on, but the screen isn't.

"Those are just from the case, I—"

"I know what they are." I reply, my voice low and distracted. She lets out a small noise of protest as I turn the computer screen on.

Hoyt's grinning face stares at me as I see that she was watching his interview tape. I turn it back off. Resist the urge to put my fist through the screen of the computer.

He gets to take so much away from me, just like he always does. But he doesn't get to take her. He doesn't get to consume her like he does me. I won't let him fucking touch her, not like that, not like anything. I'm leaning toward anger now, deep and dark rising up inside me.

"What are you doing?" I ask again, more dangerously. I look at her and she hesitates. Gauging her words. Getting ready to tell me a selective truth without telling me anything. Just like glass.

"I was getting rid of it."

I nod. Okay. "Here, let me help." I swipe my hands across her desk, knocking everything I could reach off and on the floor, in a quick and violent motion. Maura squeaks from shock, as papers and pens fly and hit the wall behind me. Her keyboard gets caught in the current, now hanging by its cord loosely off the edge of her desk.

I face her, squarely with my hands on my hips.

"I just-…" Her voice brakes, getting a little higher. "I wasn't…" No, please Maura don't do that. "I wanted to know." Don't cry.

Tears swell up in her eyes, making my face soften instantly. I'm an asshole. I'm an angry tired jerk, and I hate, hate, hate myself when I make her cry. She tries to turn away, but I keep her still, gently putting my hands on her shoulder.

"I already told you." I lean down, trying to get her to look at me, but she won't. "You're _nothing_ like him." I squeeze her shoulders gently for emphasis; causing her to make eye contact.

"I'm nothing like you either…or anyone else." I take a step closer to her, and move my hands up to the back of her neck, keeping her gaze on me.

"You're not a sociopath." I say softly, every bit of anger drained out of me. My thumb reaches up to catch a stray tear that rolls down her cheek. "You're honest and caring, and you _feel_, Maura. I know you do." I quiet sob comes from her throat, and I pull her against me, closing the space. I can't let her see how easy it is for her to tear out my heart, and that's exactly what she's doing. She hugs me hard, and I feel the shaking of her breath against me, ragged and broken. My hands smooth down and up her back, trying to comfort the pain I just caused.

A few moments pass, and her breathing becomes more regular, then I feel the gentle release of her hold. We pull apart slightly, and before I know enough to stop myself I place a soft kiss on her forehead. My hand settles itself in the warmth behind her ear, fingers wrapped in the gold of her hair. She looks at me with wide innocent eyes, and a soft smile.

"I felt that." She says, causing a smile form on my lips as well.

"See? Just like anyone else." My thumb starts to run down the length of her neck and up to her cheek.

It's quick. The sudden shift in our demeanor, and sharp intake of breath. Comfort turns to lust in an instant, but I couldn't tell you which instant it was. All I know is that now I'm trailing the fingertips of one hand down the length of her spine, while the other traces circles along her jawbone. She's grasping at my hips, pulling me gently against her.

I lean closer, just a little. Just enough to feel her chest against mine, to feel her breathing in short quick intakes, just like me.

"Jane." She whispers, eyes unsure and full of warning.

Yeah, I know. These thoughts are not without risk. It's just exhaustion and stress, with a side of trauma, making me have this ache in the pit of my stomach. Just an overload of emotions mixing which cause me to imagine all my problems melting away in her lips. Her hands are wrapped up in my shirt, impatiently waiting for me.

These thoughts are not safe. And I know that.

"I know." Because I do.

Then I kiss her.

Because I'm stupid.

But, oh God, when I kiss her—…all my problems melt away. All I feel, all my senses are consumed by her, by her lips. Soft, amazing lips that accept me willingly. I push into her a little more, needing more, moving my hands down and resting them on her hips. Her hands move up to my neck, pulling me into her. I love that she wants this, my head's swimming in the feeling of her, and when her tongue traces my bottom lip, I accept willingly. My mouth opens, quickly followed by the sensation of her tongue running along the roof of my mouth. Not to be outdone, I move to explore beyond her lips, explore and conquer and consume.

I feel dizzy.

I pull her into me more, securing her hips against mine. She moans. I feel the vibrations of the sound through my lips, and instantly it travels down my spine like electricity, making me shutter.

With a renewed vigor, I kiss her more rapidly, pushing against her, until I have her backed against the wall of her office. When I feel that she's secured against me, I break the kiss, letting us both breathe for a second. Then, my lips trail away, running along her cheek moving to her neck. Once I start kissing her again, I taste the salt that has collected on my lips. I remember, or maybe realize, suddenly that she was crying and vulnerable just a minute ago.

This is dangerous.

And stupid. So stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have taken Dean home. That would've been safe, and this is not safe. This is—

I hear her moan again as I find her pulse point and suck on it.

This is perfect.

My hands keep a tight grasp of her wrists, keeping them at her sides. I need this. I need this control, and she needs to feel like everyone else. She'll feel me, I'm sure of it.

I trail kisses up to her ear.

"You taste amazing." I whisper, pulling an earlobe between my teeth, gently nipping and running my tongue along the hollow of her ear.

Another moan. Lower this time, and I feel it deep in my stomach, clenching and responding. I rest my forehead on her shoulder, temporarily letting go of her wrists, so my hands are free to roam up her hips. They move under silk and lightly trace her ribs. Her breath is shaky, and she's scared. So am I, but she's not stopping me, and if I stop now, I'll never be able to go back…and I like it here. Fingers deftly run along the lines of muscles in her stomach, moving and running up the front of her breasts. She gasps. I feel lace and moan.

Lips attach to her neck again, focusing on the light bruise that I was working on a moment ago. My hands drop and come back up again, with shirt in tow, my intentions making themselves known. Maura's hands move up to mine, and I think she's going to push them away, and she's probably thinking the same thing, hesitating. I bite the soft skin that's occupying my mouth. Bite lightly, running my teeth along her neck,

She whimpers a little,

And then she's mine.

Her head gently hits the wall behind her and her hands help me pull her shirt off.

Once her too expensive garment is gone and forgotten behind me, I detach from her neck and take a step back so I can look at her. Which is probably a mistake. Because, oh my fucking God, she is beautiful. Her hair is slightly chaotic, eyes a glazed hazel and hooded as she looks at me. Her bottom lip gets caught in between her teeth. I watch her light skin turn a shade of light red while I stare in awe, her breath labored causing the rise and fall of her chest, covered in a black and pink lace bra. All I can think is; if she looks this beautiful now, I'm not going to be able to handle it when—

But she has other thoughts, and she reaches for me. Pulls me into her. I welcome the distraction, wanting to get back to her warmth anyway. We crash together, kissing passionately. Our tongues battle each other and she's not as easy to fight as I think. She holds her own, and her hands try to hold my head. I push my body against her, securing her between me and the wall.

The noises she's making are driving me crazy. It's all I can do not to tear her apart. To go slow. Make it count. Let her feel me.

My hands go to her lace covered breasts, running my nails down the sides, squeezing lightly. Searching briefly until I find the sensitive peaks of her nipples. I run my pad of my thumbs over them, pinch lightly. She breaks the kiss letting us both suck in oxygen for burning lungs.

"Jane…" Her eyes are locked on mine, and my hands keep busy, massaging through lace.

"Hmm?" Her back arches against me. And my grin is devious.

She's mine.

My knee nudges her legs apart, just slightly.

Every part of her.

I put my thigh against her, I push up, and I let her feel it.

Oh, God.

Maura groans and whimpers something beautiful.

She is so, God, she is so…hot. I can feel it—feel her right through to the bone of my thigh. It's the most amazing thing—

Then she starts to move her hips, pushing down on me, as I flex my muscles against her, and this—_this_ is the most amazing thing I have ever felt.

I'm losing it—

I wrap my hands through her blonde hair, tangling and gently grabbing.

Just a little—

She's breathing so hard, eyes so unfocused, that I jerk my hand a little, making her look at me. Once her eyes are on me, her hips move faster…harder. Her hands stay on the back of my neck, like she's hanging on for her life.

I'm not the only one—

"Do you feel that?" I ask her, and wonder if she even heard me. My voice is almost gone, and my throat's dry. But she hears, nodding slightly.

Not good enough.

I run my hands along the back of her hips; push myself against her, moving with her.

"Tell me." I instruct, after I bite a little at her bottom lip.

"Yes."

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes, it feels good." She gasps, and I smile thinking that was all I wanted to hear. "Jane, I want you so bad." Her eyes burn into me. She kisses me hurriedly, moving her lips to my ear. "I want to feel you inside me…make me come."

Oh my fucking God.

My eyes roll back a little, and I shutter against her. She feels it too, because suddenly I feel her smile against my cheek. She's not shy, not nearly as much as I have imagined. And I have imagined. But I realize that she's much bolder than I give her credit for. And I am really okay with that.

I chuckle a little and clear my throat.

"I don't…I don't want—" My head's all fuzzy as I try to focus on my words.

Maura stops suddenly and moves to look at me again.

"You don't want to?" Fear and hurt shining in her eyes and her voice has a hint of panic. Yep, that's what glass looks like. I quickly try to clarify what was clearly misinterpreted.

"No—I mean, Yes, I do, but—"

"But, what?" Shit.

"Bedroom." Yes, short one word sentences seem to work best for me. I'll stick to that.

"Oh." She understands. "Okay," She smiles. "Bedroom." Yes.

We untangle from each other and she picks up my hand, leading us out of her office. I purposely don't look at her desk as we leave.

Maura walks with me through her kitchen to her bedroom, and it takes all I have not to give up on the idea of a bed and finish this in the kitchen. Because she's moving _so_ slow. But I don't. I want to make it count…so I don't.

Once we arrive at our destination, I let go of her hand and start un-tucking my shirt. I try to choreograph how this is all going to play out in my mind, looking nervously at the bed. But I'm not nervous. Not really. Just…scared out of my freaking mind. I realize how very real this is, seeing that there's a bed and a willing and half naked Maura watching me intently. I take off my shirt, still lost in my thoughts.

I feel a hand on my arm, outlining muscles all the way up to my shoulder.

"You're so beautiful, Jane." She says in a voice I've never heard. Something deep and sexy. My face twitches slightly at the compliment, trying to smile but failing miserably. I'm starting to feel tense and awkward, and I want to feel what I was feeling a minute ago.

I gently pull Maura into me, liking the feeling of skin on skin. We kiss slowly, but determined, wrapping our tongues together in more of a dance than a fight this time. Her well manicured nails trail fire down my chest and find residence on my breasts that are covered by a white cotton bra.

I move us to the left a little, so I'm standing next to her dresser. Quickly, I unclip my gun and phone from my belt, placing it on a clear spot on the top. My lips don't leave hers though, and as soon as the task is done, my movements steer towards the bed. Maura's right hand suddenly continues its journey south, the back of her knuckles dragging down my stomach. I feel her fingers move under the waist band of my pants, causing me to break our kiss and watch her hand. After a brief moment of tracing the top of my underwear, her other hand came down working on the buckle of my belt.

Her lips attach to my neck and this is about all I can take.

"Oh, fuck Maur—"

My words are suddenly interrupted by her biting me on the neck. None too gently, I might add. She removes her lips and looks at me sternly.

"Language." She warns.

Really? Fucking really? She's trying to put her hand down my pants and I have to talk like I'm in church? I just look at her with indignant shock, until the distinct sound of metal clanging together reaches my ears, and I see with a glance down that she's completed the task of undoing my belt. When I look back up, her eyebrow is raised and she kisses me quick before giving a light tug to my waist band.

"Lay down on the bed."

I'm not sure when this turned from her writhing against me, to me taking orders. I'm not hating it, but it still leaves me curious. I turn and lay on my back, sideways on the bed. She moves with me, until she's straddling my upper thighs. Her hand grips the buckle of my belt and pulls sharply, removing it from my waist in one quick motion.

This is…awesome.

Maura tosses the belt on the floor and bends over, kissing me again.

Really, this is great.

My hands grip at her hips, feeling them move and rotate against me.

As fantastic as this is…

Her hands go back to my waistband, undoing the button.

This isn't what I want.

I break away from the kiss and grab her wrists.

This isn't what I need.

I pull her hands away from me, and flip us over. Almost instantly, her hands are above her head. I'm kneeling over her, her legs loosely wrapped around my hips. She's surprised and squeaks a little.

"What—"

"Please…Let me…" I plead, not knowing really what to ask for, and just hoping she can figure it out. And she does, looking at me for a second before nodding with a smile.

My head dips down and kisses along her chest until I reach the top of her breast that is still obstructed with her bra. My fingers pull the pink straps down, and move to her back. She arches up, allowing me access to the clasp. Once undone, I help her out of it, and then try very, _very_, hard not to gawk at her like a fifteen year old boy. I move my lips to their previous location, unintentionally groaning at the softness that I found. The soft and beautiful part of Maura that nobody gets to see but me. Nobody gets to touch, gets to taste…Mine.

I traced the underside of her left breast with my tongue, kissing and circling my way closer and closer to the prize. My nails trace and stroke her other breast, allowing goose bumps on her skin to rise, and causing her to shutter slightly.

Regardless, she is being awfully quiet, and I am determined to change that. Without warning, I put her nipple in my mouth, sucking and running my tongue around the tip.

She lets out a moan that almost sounds like humming.

"Mm, I like that sound. Do it again." I mumble against her, and then scrape my teeth gently along her nipple.

So, she does do it again, louder, and I think I hear my name mixed in there, and I love it.

Her hands come up to tangle into my hair, to which I instantly release her breast and once again claim her wrists. I pin her hands to each side of her head, and move so that I'm looking right at her.

"Stay." I squeeze her wrists for emphasis, my voice deep and my eyes dark. She nods submissively, and I move back to my previous location. I use my mouth to claim over every inch of her breast, and then shift to give the same attention to the other side.

She's moving her hips against me again; causing me to become pleasantly distracted. I rise up, kneeling in front of her, and move to unbutton her pants. Not wasting any time, pulling on them, and Maura lifts and straightens her legs, allowing me to easily pull them off. Then, she wraps her legs around my hips again.

Oh my fucking God, I can't believe how fucking gorgeous she is. Too bad I can't say that out loud like a grown-up.

I lean down and kiss her again, as softly as I can manage.

"There is nothing," I whisper when our lips part. "nothing in this world, that is more beautiful than you."

She blushes.

I move my lips lower, trailing down her stomach, feeling it move every time she breaths, like soft silk waves. I move lower still, lips reaching pink and black lace. She's squirming under me, trying not to let her frustration show. I move the direction of my lips to her inner thighs, temporarily avoiding what she needs, causing Maura to let out a sound of annoyance. Looking up at her, I can see her hands wrapped in sheets, gabbing and pulling, desperately trying to stay where I told her too.

I smile, wrapping my fingers in lace, and pulling the obstructive material off of her. I'm leaning over her again, drinking in the sight of her lying naked before me. Someone somewhere messed up, because I've died and gone to Sex Heaven, and I'm almost positive that I'm not worthy.

"Jane." My musings are interrupting by the siren's throaty call.

"Hm?" I ask, still absorbing her.

"I need you." Not worthy, but not stupid. I wouldn't dream of not taking advantage of such a golden opportunity. I shake myself out of my revere.

"I'm sorry." I reply, my voice sounding foreign to even me, almost dream like. I trace my middle finger up her body to her lips. It traces her bottom lip for a moment, before she catches it in her mouth, sucking the length of it gently, never breaking eye contact from me.

I pull my finger away from her, moving my hand down, and running it along her folds.

She's humming again.

My finger's drowning.

I feel like I'm high.

"I really don't mean to go so slow." I continue, not really sure if she's listening. Slowly, regardless, I move my finger through her folds,

"It's just that if I didn't,"

I brush against her clit, causing her to jump a little. Her eyes are still on me.

"I'd go too fast. I'd ruin it, and it wouldn't mean anything."

Her hips fidget against my hand, desperately needing more attention.

"Because I want you so much, Maura. I want you to feel it."

I stop the movement of my hand, but before she can protest I enter her. And what I enter is an amazing, hot, wet, pink nirvana. It's clenching and tight—…so _tight_. My body bucks a little just at the sensation, listening to her gasp under me.

"Do you feel me?" I pull out of her slightly, and then go in even deeper.

"Yes." She moans in response.

Pull out, then in.

She moves her hand to my wrist, and I'm about to protest, but something in her eyes stops me. She flattens the palm of my hand against her, surrounding me in wet heat. Then she rolls her hips against me, hard. Pulling me deeper inside her, harder against her.

"Do you?" She asks, in a voice that I didn't recognize. Something low and needy.

She's an angel. I shouldn't be allowed to do this to her, for this must be the greatest sacrilege, and I will be punished severely for laying hands on a creature of such beauty.

I kiss her hard.

Pull out, then in. She moans against my lips when I enter a second finger.

Her hips move faster, the palm of my hand moving against her clit every time.

I move my lips to her breast, bringing a nipple into my mouth.

She yells out, and I love the sounds she makes.

Nails dig into my back.

"Jane…"

I look back at her, move faster inside her. Her walls are clenching endlessly around my fingers and I know she's close.

"Come for me." I whisper against her cheek, and then I smile because she does. Muscles tense and contract, and I can barely move my hand anymore. Barely, but I still manage. Moving and rotating, riding it out with her. Just when it's almost over, I curve my fingers inside her, finding that familiar rough patch.

She likes that. A lot.

Her nails dig harder in my back, and I kiss her while she rides out her last waves, slowly, so slowly coming down from heaven, and into my arms. Golden hair and skin wrap around me. Silk and heat surround me.

My body finally catches up to my mind, slows itself down, and then I finally go to sleep.

Chapter Two Preview:

[The Easy Doctor]

{"Who was it?" She asks, looking down at her hands again.

Again, I'm confused.

"Who…?"

"The woman before me, was it just once or…?"

Oh.

"Oh, um…" I take a second for my wording, but letting her know that I comprehended. "It was in high school."

Jane nods. "Oh, right. All girls' school." I don't like the way she says that. Not at all. It's the same way she makes assumptions about cases, making guesses with confidence, but she doesn't have any idea. My eyebrows crease while I stare at her.

"It wasn't like that." I try to sound more stern than hurt, but I think it comes out the other way around.}


	2. The Easy Doctor

Author's Notes: Maura's turn now, which is why I plan on using bigger words! No med terms though, because I don't feel like butchering the medical field's language. English is the only language I butcher, fo' shizzle. (but, why is it still in first person/present tense? I mean, all you did during the first chapter was complain-) Look, I'm a bit OCD okay? It all needs to be the same. It's called consistency, voice in my head. (sigh, okay. But you made everyone wait so effin long, will there still be sex?) Um, yeah. Duh. I'm very true to my M rating. Charlie don't take it lightly. (…So you don't like first person, and that means you refer to yourself in third? Really?) Shh! The story's starting…

Chapter Two

[The Easy Doctor]

I wake up suddenly, to the sound of buzzing in my head, and an empty bed.

This is disappointing, considering that I'm positive it wasn't empty last night. Disappointing, but not entirely surprising, I suppose.

I open my eyes, and glance around, taking in my surrounding. My bed is definitely empty, but as my eyes focus, I see her standing next to my dresser, turning her phone off. Then the buzzing stops.

She notices me stirring and gives me a small smile, before putting her phone down. I smile back, feeling a slight heat rise up my neck, embarrassed a little, at how happy it makes me to see that she's still here.

"Sorry. I didn't mean for it to wake you up."

"It's okay." I clear my throat, wishing I had some water, as hoarse as my voice sounds. But, given my current state of undress under the blankets, I'm not in any hurry to get to the kitchen. I glance at the clock, seeing it read 7:02 a.m. "I should be getting ready for work soon, anyway."

Jane stands by the dresser awkwardly for a few moments before making a decision to come back to the bed.

She's not running away screaming. I guess that's a plus.

She grabs her shirt off the floor on her way, tossing it up on the bed, before sitting next to me. I flinch a little when I see her back, and the red scraps along her shoulders. I didn't draw any surface blood but I definitely damaged a few layers of skin.

"I'm sorry about your back."

She looks at me confused for a moment.

"Oh, that. It's okay," I sit up a little straighter, holding the covers tight to my chest. "Besides you were just getting even." She smiles, but I don't really understand. She moves her hand to my face, running the palm of her thumb along my cheek, slowly moving down my neck. My eyes flutter a little, the memories from last night hitting me hard. "I gave you one decent hickey."

"Hm?" I ask, a little lost in my thoughts. She chuckles a bit, looking at me knowingly.

"You're neck. You'll have a heck of a time covering that up."

She moves her hand away from me, and I replace it with my own, curiously running my fingers along my neck, trying to see if I could feel the bruised skin, but already knowing that I wouldn't be able to.

Jane moves to lie down next to me, a little more comfortable. In her determination last night, I never did manage to get her fully undressed. The only thing I personally took off of her was her belt.

"So, was this your first time?" She asks, looking down at her hands like she always does when she's nervous or scared.

"I don't know what you mean." Maybe I do, a little, but I have to be sure. I can't make assumptions about other people's thoughts, because that's when margin of human error occurs, and if I'm wrong it can be much more destructive than if I just ask a few more questions. Just to make sure.

"Last night. Have you done that before?"

"I've had sex before." I reply, still a little confused, and I almost instantly knew I had gotten the guess wrong by the annoyed look she shot me.

"I know you—…With a woman. Have you done _that_ before?"

"Yes." I reply, more confident.

"Oh." That's not a good sound. When Jane's face makes that expression, it's usually not good either.

"…Have you?"

"No."

"Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised by her response. I had just thought—

"What do you mean, 'really'? I think I'd remember." Her voice is bordering on a familiar sound of anger, and it makes me wish I didn't choose the most inopportune time to become inarticulate.

"It's just you were very good at it. You seemed to know what you were doing and didn't need much prompting from me."

She smiles a little, and I'm relieved that I finally said something right this morning.

"I didn't need _any_ prompting from you. I was good." I can still hear the smile in her voice, and it brings one out of me as well.

"Yes, you were very good." Very. A shudder runs down my back at the memory.

She gives such a sideways grin that, oh my, someone save me from an overconfident Rizzoli.

After a moment, her face gets more serious.

"Who was it?" She asks, looking down at her hands again.

Again, I'm confused.

"Who…?"

"The woman before me, was it just once or…?"

Oh.

"Oh, um…" I take a second for my wording, but letting her know that I comprehended. "It was in high school."

Jane nods. "Oh, right. All girls' school." I don't like the way she says that. Not at all. It's the same way she makes assumptions about cases, making guesses with confidence, but she doesn't have any idea. My eyebrows crease while I stare at her.

"It wasn't like that." I try to sound more stern than hurt, but I think it comes out the other way around.

Her eyes meet mine a little wide, and apologetic.

"Maura, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

I nod a little, in acceptance even though I know she did mean it like that. I look at the clock again, and try to think of something to fill the silence that has awkwardly placed itself in the room.

"I'm probably going to head out," I open my mouth in protest, wanting to tell her that she didn't have to leave. "Give you some space to get dressed." She explains, putting on her shirt. She almost certainly needs to get home and change too, and it's almost 7:30.

"I'll see you at work then?" Sure, that didn't sound needy, Maura. Not in the slightest.

"Yeah." Jane replies off handedly, going back over to my dresser to grab her phone and gun. Because we work together so of course I would see her at work.

"I—" She starts to say, standing at my side of the bed, looking down at me. "I had a great time last night." We both cringe at how bad that sounds coming from her.

"That sounds like a line, but it's not." She continues, kneeling to face me, but her eyes stay downcast. She pulls my hand in hers, running her thumbs over my knuckles, taking unsure breaths.

"I mean, you know don't you?" Something raw and full of emotion laces her words, before looking up at me. "It meant something?" She asks almost desperate, and I have to focus to form a response, my breath taken away by her intensity on me.

"Yes."

It undoes me, completely, this passion that she has when she looks at me like that. I've never seen it on her before, not as pure, but just diluted versions of it through anger or pain. But not passion, not towards me, and it just takes a quick look for me to come undone, and my insides melt.

She looks down again, allowing me to steady my breathing.

Yes, it definitely meant something, but what?

"Then we're still friends?" Her voice lightens a little, and she just answers my question.

There is a distinct feeling in my stomach that I can easily associate with disappointment.

I know, as much as I can claim to know about these things that having a physically intimate relationship with your co-workers is not a good idea. There are serious psychological ramifications, which include the increase of distractions, and the decrease of proper communication. The lack of professionalism causes an overall lack of productivity. Which is why I never understood why people did it, and which is also why I myself never did it—

"Maura?"

But Jane is always my exception.

"Yes." I reply a little too quick, getting lost in my thought. Jane's eyes squint slightly, before looking at my bedside clock, and decide that whatever my thoughts were would take a back seat to fresh cloths and being on time for work.

She gives a comforting squeeze to my hand, that certainly did not have its desired effect, and then she leaves.

Jane is always my exception.

Once I hear my front door close, I get out of bed, grabbing a robe from my bathroom.

My one uncontrollable variable.

Knowing already that most of my morning routine would have to go undone; I went to start a pot of coffee before taking my shower.

I don't interact well with other people, and it's painfully obvious to all parties. But with Jane, there was never awkwardness, never a time when I wanted to run away. Even with the lost look she gives me sometimes, and the lost feeling I have with her sometimes, we seem to always find a steady flow. Everything with her is easy. Work is easy. Friendship is easy. Even last night, letting her get that close, allowing that vulnerability from me to show. It was _too_ easy, not allowing me to think of the possible consequences of my actions.

Now it seems that my easy is going to get a bit more complicated.

I start to run the water for my shower, when I'm distracted by my reflection. I look into the bathroom mirror and see the dark patch of burst blood vessels that Jane was referring to, taking residence on my lower neck.

Foundation won't cover that.

Sigh.

It's going to be a long day.

.

.

.

At 11:30 a.m., I decide that I'm being ridiculous. Frost needs the autopsy report on Hoyt's newly found victim, a report that I had finished at 9:45, and have not yet left the lab to give it to him. Instead, I've been spending almost two hours looking at every pair of shoes that the internet was selling, within fashionable confines of course. But by now, I know that this is exactly the kind of unproductively that I don't understand or tolerate from others. So, with report in hand, I head to the homicide department, without any intent to avoid Jane.

Besides, with a little luck, she'll be at lunch.

But she's not. She's slouching over her desk, enthralled in paperwork, looking bored and restless.

I never really believed in luck anyway.

Frost wasn't even at his desk, probably gone to lunch, and against the sinking feeling in my stomach, I decided avoidance wasn't the best path today. I walk confidently up to Jane's desk, looking a little at the forms she was filling out.

"Where's Frost?" I ask, trying for nonchalance.

"Out to lunch." She replies before finally looking up at me, and acknowledging my existence. She runs her eyes up the length of my body, in a completely obvious way.

"Nice dress."

"Thank you." I only blush a little.

"A little warm outside for a turtleneck, isn't it?" Now she's teasing me, great. She gives me a sideways grin and arched eyebrow as she leans against the arm she has propped up as a head rest. I see Korsak look up from his computer, with feigned interest.

"It's sleeveless." My voice is a little defensive, knowing that my navy blue dress was entirely appropriate for both the season and the workplace.

"Right." Jane insinuates that it has nothing to do with why I'm wearing it. I huff a little at that, rolling my eyes at her teasing. Her smile just gets bigger, and she glances down at her desk. Is she blushing?

"I finished my autopsy report." I place the file on Frost's desk for him when he gets back.

"Let me guess, Hoyt killed him?" Jane's voice has a tone of suspense and levity to it, causing Korsak to laugh a little behind me. It was general knowledge for anyone that was working this case that Hoyt had in fact killed him but;

"There was actually no physical evidence on the body suggesting that."

She rolls her eyes slightly, as she always does when I misunderstand her. Which I seem to do a lot, but Jane often doesn't mean exactly what she says.

"I was kidding."

Sometimes, it's like a puzzle you have to figure out, and I enjoy puzzles of mathematics and science, but ones of human emotion are the ones that I always have trouble with.

Jane sits up straight, glances at me, with a shine in her eyes and the corners of her lips curving upward.

"Have a seat, stay a while." She says, tapping her pen on the stack of paperwork occupying her desk.

I smile genuinely while I sit in the chair against her desk. There was a sense of apprehension for seeing her at work, thinking for sure that one of us would make this day unnecessarily awkward.

But it wasn't. It was just Jane.

This is a good sign, I decide. Her willingness to be around me, like always. We can continue about business, being professional, and still keep our friendship intact. Yes, I'm feeling very confident about it. I look over to Jane and see her looking at my legs. A distant gaze with distinct pupil dilation and—

And she's looking at my legs. Sometimes I can't read Jane as easily as I would like, but I always know when she's looking.

So much for innocent friendship.

Despite my better judgment, I smile knowingly, watching her gaze move up the length of my thighs, probably imagining last night and how they were wrapped around her hips. I flex the muscles in my legs slightly, trying to quell the sudden ache I seem to have from the memory. She caught the movement of muscles, and moved her eyes to mine. I had to stop myself from gasping at the shadow of zeal that clouded over dark brown.

I know she's not purposely trying to kill me, but—…

Okay. Two can play, Detective.

I move my right hand out of my lap and lean over, fingers pretending to fix the strap of my heel, Jane's gaze following my movements. Once the imaginary task is quickly done, I run my fingers up the length of my calves, slowly, dragging my nail along lightly. I stop myself from shuddering at the sensation, moving higher up to my thigh. I flatten the palm of my hand against the width and move it to where my dress starts and my legs cross. She chews on her bottom lip in the most adorable way when,

"Jane…" I hear Korsak stand and call to her from behind me. Immediately, my hands are back in my lap and playing innocent. Jane doesn't respond to him though. "Jane!" He says, louder this time. I uncross my legs and kick her gently, snapping her out of her stupor.

"What?" She practically yells in response as he walks around me to face her.

"Do you want any lunch?" His hands go up in a defensive move. "I'm going down to grab something."

"No." Her eyes are back on my legs, he turns to go, and then they're back on him. "Wait. What are you getting?"

He stops and sighs. "Roast beef."

"Get me some too." He nods with a slight smile and walks out. Once he's gone, Jane looks at me with a sigh.

"I'm going to the bathroom." She says unexpectedly, standing up. I'm a little confused and disappointed at the statement, wondering why she was suddenly in such a rush to leave. I stand with her, quickly straightening out stray creases in my dress with my hands.

"Um, okay." I start to make my way towards the hallway. "I have some paperwork to finish filling out in the lab—" Jane suddenly reaches out and lightly grabs my lower arm, leading me in the opposite direction of my lab once we get in the hallway

"No. You don't." Is all she says in a distracted and low voice.

Apparently I don't.

After a few corners are turned, I realize where she's taking me. Towards the back of the station house is a smaller bathroom that is usually only used on the occasions when drug tests are done. It's smaller and more secluded from the main traffic of the building. She pulls me in with her, and glances around the one stall room before locking the door behind me.

A strong sense of apprehension settles in me, and it isn't relieved when I see her dark glare focus on me. She slowly stalks toward me, and I start to feel more nervous.

"Jane—" I start, and I am abruptly cut off when she pulls me into her, kissing me.

No, not really kissing. Consuming. Drowning me in passion. Making me melt against her. I whimper a little, trying to keep up; all the feelings from last night come back quick. All the feelings, and more. Her hands move down my sides, and up my back, causing shivers to run through me.

After the need for oxygen overlies our passion, we break the kiss. Her hands are on my hips, thumbs pressing into bone gently, as she pulls me against her. I take a few breaths before I look at her.

"What happened to 'just being friends'?"

Jane often doesn't mean exactly what she says.

"I don't remember that. I remember a few minutes ago, when I was sitting innocently at my desk and you started to tease me."

My eyebrow rises. "You are many things Jane, but 'innocent' is hardly one of them."

A scandalous grin breaks out on her face, and her eyes trail down the length of my body.

"I want to take you out of that dress."

My point exactly.

Her head dips down, and I barely feel her lips move across my cloth covered neck, her memory giving her the location of last night's contusion.

"I want to put more marks on you." I feel her hands move up along my ribs, and push gently against my breasts, causing me to gasp a little.

But we shouldn't be doing this here. Even with Jane's precautions, there's still too much risk. We need to talk about this. About all of this, because I don't like feeling confused, and with Jane it's easy to—

"Jane." I try very hard to sound confident and resistant to the sensations she was causing.

I doubt she even hears me, moving her lips to trail kisses on my jaw line, and up to my ear. She pushes against me with a little more force, guiding us against the door we came into.

"Mine." I hear her say, distracted, and I feel a little rush of offense to it.

I most certainly am not.

"Jane." I say with a sharper, more indignant tone. This causes her to look at me, almost curiously.

"No." Her eyes glance down at my lips briefly. "Don't say it like that."

"What?" I stare a little, confused again. Her right hand travels down my hip, and runs along my thigh.

"My name." My head gets a little light when I feel the heat of her hand move back up, under my dress. I should be…I should be stopping her. Right.

"I don't—…" Suddenly, she pushes the material of my underwear aside, and runs her middle finger through wet heat, brushing my clit just slightly. "_Jane_." I half hiss, half whisper.

"Yes. Say it just like that." Her eyes close for a moment, and I grab her shoulder to keep balance.

I move my legs apart a little.

Maybe I am hers. A little.

But still—

"You're so wet." She says it almost as if she's surprised. As if she doesn't know. I bite my lip to stifle a moan.

But still, I don't do this. I'm not this dangerous or careless, or reckless with anyone.

"I'm not—" I start to say, but Jane takes the opportunity to interrupt me.

"Oh, you're not?" An utterly devious grin appears on her face, and she brings her hand out from under my dress. She presents her finger as evidence to her point. I glare.

"I was going to say; I'm not that easy."

The smile on Jane's face disappears, and she looks serious for a moment. "…I know." Then she places her middle finger in her mouth, sucking on the length of it, and wrapping her tongue around the digit.

"You do?" I whisper, staring at her mouth, now being the one distracted as she looks at me intensely.

"Yeah, definitely." The hand goes back under my dress, as her other one bunches the material of my dress higher up my hips. "You are not easy."

I'm not. But here's Jane, the exception.

I feel her move through my folds, and almost without warning, she shifts to push her finger inside me. My breath catches at the sudden movement.

"…Right, I'm not." I'm still whispering, moving my head closer to hers, and realizing how badly I want to kiss her right now.

"This is not you being easy." She smirks.

"Shut up." I say, before I collide into her, crashing our lips together in a perfect chaos of lips and tongues. I can taste myself in her mouth, and this makes me kiss her harder, and she starts to move inside me, gaining rhythm. It doesn't take long, our kiss breaks, both of us breathing hard, and Jane adds another finger to her penetration. My body is more than ready for it, already feeling my arousal slicking my inner thighs. I arch into another set of fingers that have found themselves on my breast.

"You know, I've imagined being with you…before last night." Her voice is low and serious, looking at me with the passion that breaks me apart. So my eyes are hooded when I look back at her.

"Really?" My voice is breathless, but genuine. I didn't know that.

"Mm Hm." Her hand flexes and moves deeper inside me. I moan. "What about you? Did you ever think about how good this would feel," In. "…me" Out. "…inside you." In.

"Yes." She shushes me at my answer, and I suppose I must have yelled it out.

Jane's face moves closer to mine. "Did you ever touch yourself when you thought about me?"

Her words make me clench and tremble.

"…Jane." Her name sounds more of a groan than anything.

I feel myself tighten around her fingers, and by the proud smirk she's sporting, I imagine she can feel it too.

"Is that a yes?"

I nod.

Her fingers move faster.

"I did too. I would lay in bed…thinking about you…touching myself."

Now my hips are meeting every thrust

"Wou—" Her thumb starts to rub against my clit. "Would you…"

Words. Oh, I want to know, but words aren't working. Not coming out and forming in the way they should. I'm shaking. She hums in my ear, and I feel her breath on my neck.

Please.

"Oh, yes. I would come _hard_, thinking about you."

Oh, my.

She moves faster inside me.

I feel heat spread through every part of me, my eyes squeeze shut as I try not to yell out. I feel myself go up and over. Then stars.

I see stars.

I love stars.

.

.

.

I spend a few moments fixing my appearance in the bathroom mirror, as Jane is hunched over the sink rinsing the soap off her hands, and running still wet hands over her face.

The heat in the bathroom is gone now, everything feeling stale. Jane isn't saying anything, and the tremors running through my body are almost subdued.

I'm still confused, and Jane won't look at me.

This won't do.

"Jane, we need to talk."

She finishes wiping her face off with a long piece of paper towel.

"I need to get back to work." Her eyes stay on the floor, tossing the brown paper in the waste bin.

I steel myself a little. Take a breath.

"After work then."

"I…I told Frankie that I'd stop by. Ma wants me to check up on him, see how he's doing."

I'm not asking.

She makes a move for the door, and I step slightly in her path, making it known that I was serious.

She sighs, fidgeting.

"After I leave Frankie's tonight, I'll come by. It'll be kind of late though."

I nod.

I don't want this to be what she's turning it into. I've done that before, and I thoroughly disliked its outcome. But, regardless of the fact that her passion makes me buckle and melt, and despite how close I am to her, and even though she just washed me off her hands in the bathroom sink,

I am not that easy.

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Chapter Three Preview

[A Sleepover]

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[I move up behind her, and trail my fingers down the back of her silk nightgown. She feels the sensation and turns to swat my hands away.

"I told you, we're just sleeping." She uses her 'serious' voice, causing me to gape at her indignantly like a teenager. I'm finding out quickly that I don't much like being denied anything Maura related.

"Then stop oiling up like you're getting ready to star in a wet dream." I wave my hands towards the bottle of vanilla scented lotion.

"It's lotion." She unnecessarily clarifies, and I roll my eyes at her.

"Well, it's sexy, so stop." I cross my arms over my chest.

She closes the cap on the lotion, and places it back on her dresser, before turning towards me. Maura tilts her head slightly and all but glares at me. Uh-oh.

"Why don't you give me a list of everything I'm _not_ allowed to do, so the process of me going to sleep will be quicker." Her hands go on her hips and she takes a step toward me. "Can I breathe?"

Her eyebrow arches in a way that says; 'I know exactly what I'm doing to you', and her lips curving upward slightly gives her way.

Okay. Two can play, Doctor.]


End file.
